A Mother’s Sacrifice. Kitty Neale

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       Chapter 6

      It was a sunny but chilly Friday morning as Glenda pushed her pram over Battersea Bridge, excited about meeting Frank on the other side. She was glad of the good weather, but if she was honest even a hurricane wouldn’t put a dampener on her spirits today. This was the second time she was meeting Frank in secret and though she hadn’t known him long, she felt she knew him well. It was odd, she thought, that Frank was so different from his brother Billy. Not just in appearance but in personality too. Frank was warm and funny; he had a confident air about him but his light spirit made her feel instantly relaxed. On the other hand, his brother gave her the creeps. She shuddered as she dismissed any further thoughts of Billy.

      The week had dragged by so slowly, but she had managed to tolerate Harry and his demands by creating her own little daydream world with Frank as the focus of her thoughts. Oh, why couldn’t Harry be more like Frank? she mused as she glanced at the dirty-looking River Thames flowing under the bridge below her. There had been a time a short while ago when she’d felt like throwing herself off this bridge, but something was different now. Something was bringing light into her life, just like the sunshine that was warming her face. That something was Frank and she quickened her pace, eager to get to the other side.

      Soon enough, Glenda spotted a man in a long grey mac and trilby hat whom she instantly recognised as Frank. He was holding a carpet bag and waving furiously at her. Oh, good, she thought, he looks just as keen to see me as I am to see him! She almost ran, and was slightly breathless as she reached Frank, who dropped his bag and swept her up into his arms, lifting her feet from the ground and squeezing her tightly.

      Glenda was taken aback by such an enthusiastic greeting and slightly embarrassed by a public show of emotion, but, as soon as Frank spoke, her embarrassment faded and her heart melted.

      ‘I’ve missed you, Glenda Jenkins!’ Frank crooned as he stared intently into Glenda’s dark eyes. ‘I couldn’t wait to see you.’

      ‘You too, Frank,’ whispered Glenda, nervous but excited at the same time. Oh, dear, she thought, is he going to kiss me? Her body tensed. She wasn’t sure if Frank felt her stiffen but he released her from his fervent hug and she found her feet back on the ground.

      ‘I’m sorry, Glenda, that was a bit much. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you all week and it’s been driving me crazy not seeing you. I got a bit over-excited.’

      Glenda smiled as Frank winked at her and flashed her one of his cheeky grins. She knew how he felt; it had been the same for her too.

      ‘I’ve done us a bite to eat for lunch. How about we take a stroll down Cheyne Walk first?’ Frank asked.

      ‘Sounds lovely. I must admit, I’ve never been over this side of the water. It’s a bit different from Battersea!’ Glenda suddenly felt very scruffy and out of date in her black wool coat, which was bobbled with age, and her headscarf looked so old fashioned compared to the fancy hats the women here were wearing.

      ‘This is where the rich and famous live. Do you know Turner lived down this road?’ said Frank, gesturing with his hand.

      ‘I hope you don’t think I’m an idiot, but I have no idea who you’re talking about, Frank.’

      ‘Turner – he was a famous artist. And for the record, no, I don’t think you’re an idiot. Well, apart from staying with that husband of yours!’

      ‘I can’t say you’re wrong on that point, Frank,’ Glenda said, nodding, ‘but this Turner bloke can’t be that famous. I mean, I’ve never heard of him!’

      They both laughed and Glenda looked around her: at the Thames to her right, glistening as the sunlight caught the tops of the ripples, and the tall, gated mansion houses to her left, which held so much wealth and luxury for their lucky residents. This was such a perfect day and she didn’t want it ever to end.

      Frank stopped at a vacant black iron bench that faced the river. Perfect, he thought, as he beckoned Glenda to sit down.

      ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but that walk has given me a bit of an appetite. Fancy a bite to eat?’ He rummaged in his carpet bag and pulled out two sandwiches, along with a bag of chewy bonbons. ‘I hope you like egg sandwiches.’

      ‘Egg! Real egg?’ Glenda exclaimed as she parked the pram.

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘Oh, Frank, I hate powdered egg so this is a real treat, and sweets too!’

      ‘Well, I had a bit of luck with the sweets. An old dear on the hospital ward had a visit from her granddaughter who used her sweet rations to buy her the bonbons. She didn’t like to tell her that with no teeth she couldn’t eat them. The eggs came from my mate down the street where I used to live before our house was bombed. He’s turned the old bomb shelter in his garden into a chicken house.’

      Glenda took the proffered sandwich, relishing the taste as she bit into it, and for a few minutes a comfortable silence fell between them as they ate. Frank poured two cups of dandelion and burdock and handed one to Glenda, and the pair of them clinked their tin cups, both announcing ‘Cheers’.

      Frank felt the urge to lean across and kiss Glenda but refrained from doing so, reminding himself that they were just friends. Although he wanted far more than that, he didn’t want to frighten Glenda off and he knew she was far too loyal to be unfaithful to Harry. In spite of this, he couldn’t stop himself taking her hand in his. Her skin felt beautifully soft.

      ‘Glenda,’ he began, ‘I understand that this is difficult, but you must know how I feel about you.’

      ‘I think I do, Frank,’ she answered, lowering her eyes to the pavement. ‘I’m falling for you too and I know I shouldn’t. I just can’t help myself. And having you in my life somehow makes things at home more bearable.’

      Frank’s heart was breaking for the poor woman. She was stuck in a loveless marriage with a man she feared and, as much as he wanted to take her away and save her, he had nothing to offer.

      ‘I love you, Glenda. There’s no mistaking it. I want you to leave your husband and be СКАЧАТЬ